The Lament of the Late Riser

'Tis dark. It seems

As if 't were early morning.

Half thoughts, half dreams,

Into my mind are swarming.

Upon my ear

A deep-toned knell is falling.

I wake, and hear

The bell to chapel calling.

I rise and dress,

For haste its sounds betoken.

My shoe, I ---- bless,

For now the string is broken.

I'm late. A cut

Is added to my sorrow.

The chapel's shut!

I'll rise at six to-morrow.

Joseph Warren Bishop

Index to poems in the collection by Joseph Warren Bishop